(Well, this phone call could be going better. I look around at the familiar, yet unfamiliar hotel room setting that is my temporary home. The lights are off but unlike most people I see more than just a mixture of shadow. My eyes adjust quite different to darkness than most. I attribute this to where I grew up. I hold the phone cord in my hand and twist it around making me feel as if I'm strangling someone. For a moment it seems almost like a pleasant thought. Not something I would have thought in th past. My mother's training has done something to me....and a large part of me likes it.)

I appreciate the enthusiasm.

(Yeah his tone sounds oh so appreciative. He sounds groggy and unalert. Somehow he still manages to be mopey in that state too. It's probably the damn house. I should have burned the place down whether he wanted it or not. It was weak of me to allow it to stand just because he's sentimentally attached to it. Still I'm far from in the mood to bring that up tonight. At the same time the longer he spends in that house the worse off he is going to be. I should at least get him to leave, but I doubt he will. Where would he go? A hotel? Not my room. I can't say I'm in the mood to be around anyone right now. I have to focus on my hatred and anger. Meld it with my heart. Become stronger. I can't be around him right now. Can't have him instill weakness within me. When I am ready, when I am complete, I'll be able to have him around without it making me weak.

This phone call is close enough to causing me problems. My worry for him is strong. In order for a warrior to reach their true potential they must be willing to give up all attachments at any time. So I will not go to that house and help him. He must help himself. We all must help ourselves. Still, I'll give him a nudge in the right direction.)

You need to get out of that house. It's still tainted. Go get a hotel or something.

(I know this isn't going to go over well. I'm sure he's tired of having to deal with abnormal things. That isn't my fault. He just needs to stop being foolish. Does he think I like having to have this conversation repeatedly? It's annoying, but I have to because he'll get all pathetic if I just tell him to stop being dumb so that I don't have to keep going into it. He sighs while replying. Something I do alot when around him.)

You see, I would... ...but unfortunately, at this specific moment in time, I can't move a limb on my body.

(I pause for a moment, almost dumbfounded.)

What do you mean you can't move? Why not?

(He takes no time in replying. His tone is less cordial more him being a pain in the ass.)

That's a good question Eclipse. I'm not really sure myself. I'm suprised I can even talk. It's like my body has just shut down. Can't even think straight...

(Christ. Is he that god damn clueless? I sigh angrily before speaking a little slower so that he can understand me.)

And yet you get annoyed when I bring the subject up of getting you out there. What's it going to take for you to get the point?

(Next he'll probably get all indignant and mention how I'm chewing him out rather than doing anything to help. Who's fault is it that he's in this though? Certainly not mine.)

I'm sorry, did I say I was annoyed? Burn the fucker down...see what I care. I want to get out. I want it burned. I want it done with. Unfortunately, I'm two steps away from a fucken paraplegic.

(He's so damn frustrating. I feel my anger grow, but I don't let it enter my voice. I just let it cling to my insides and become one with me.)

Why would you sit and talk to me about other stuff for ten minutes before finally telling me you're paralyzed?

(We could have been trying to solve the problem rather than allowing it to grow worse. Is he an idiot?)

Well, under normal circumstances I figured you wouldn't give a shit. Has something changed?

(Yep, he's an idiot.)

You're retarded aren't you? Do you think we're on the phone now because you're a great conversationalist you monosyllabic moron? Are we talking just because I like wasting my time arguing about the same things over and over again? Get your head on straight.

(His tone goes mocking, bitter and harsh. It only serves to grate against me.)

Aww, where's my big boy warrior speech? Hatred, anger, suck it up ya big pussy...all that fun stuff. I--

(He suddenly stops speaking. I hear some very faint noises I can't make out. For a moment it's nothing but faint noses then out of nowhere I hear him yell out.)

God Damnit Liz! Knock it off!

(Then the line goes dead. Fuckin demonic bitch! I warned him repeatedly to get out, burn the place down. Did he? No. Of course not. Why would he listen? Now she's doing something....again. Damnit I didn't want to end up seeing him till at the show. The debate lasts little time in my head. Someone is fucking with what's mine. I have to go....so I can watch her and that house burn. Just as I start towards the door the sound of knocking stops me in my tracks. Who the hell could that be? My parents are in Alaska. Angel is in trouble and I'm on my way to save his ass again. It better not be the hotel employees. I hate to be disturbed.

I could call out and ask who it is, but I don't care. I step forward and throw the door open. Of all the people I thought I could find on the other side...Jesse Williams wasn't one of them. Yet here he is. My mind switches gears from Angel to the immediate situation. All thoughts of my mopey whatever fade for the moment. One thing at a time. So Jesse has come to my door searching for something, but what? What could he want. Does he even know? I'm more than eager to find out. My powerful blue eyes bore into him with all the power my madness supplies me. Yet my fierce expression shifts ever so slightly to create room for a twisted smirk I'm not often used to carrying.)

Are you lost?

(This should be interesting. He responds quicker than I expect.)

No, I'm exactly where I need to be.

(In the most arrogant of manners he continues. How nauseating.)

You, on the other hand. You better get lost if you want to make it to Determined.

(How quaint. So I've waited casually for his point to emerge. It has halfway, but even with him uttering three sentences too many I still haven't learned much other than that he can make little threats. We stand in silence for a long moment. My smirk never leaving my face. I stare at his eyes. My mind breaking him down into a threat level category. Soon his eyes seem to look around...behind me. What are you trying to find Jesse? The only thing you'll find at my doorstep is pain. I wait longer and still nothing. Fine. I'll speak. My vocal tone is layered with bitterness, anger, insanity, and some sort of glee. Yes for some reason this little incident is bringing me great amusement. Is it the anticipation of the violence I so crave? I think so.)

Is that all? Or would you like to rephrase and make sense? Please. Take your time.

(For some reason he takes this as in invite and steps forward to enter my so-called bubble of personal space. I step back half a step and prepare for an attack that hasn't come yet. Why hasn't it come? I want it. Oh I want you Jesse, but not the way Alexis does. You don't get it. You've just placed yourself on my radar. Before tonight, you didn't exist to me. Now you've made your presence known. You've shown your act of bravery. Now I know you. Now I crave you. Bring the violence I want. Give me your pain. I will teach you fear. He stares into my eyes as if it is easy. I restrain from laughing. Then he opens his mouth. My curiousity causes me to wait. Oh what's on your little mind my dear?)

Sure, Let me spell it out for you Eclipse. You think you're big and tough, constantly beating Alexis and constanly hurting her? Well, that ends right here, right now.

(His face runs a gauntlet of emotions as it switches between a cocky smirk and total seriousness. His chest has inflated. Pumped up. How cute. Isn't he chivilrous, trying to defend the honor of the little girl without any.)

You want to try to end someone's career- I'm right here. Try me. I'll even let you get the first shot in.

(He exposes his neck in the most begging of fashions. He wants the pain. He wants the violence. I don't hesitate in fullfilling his request. It's just what I wanted for dinner. My arm pulls back and lunges forward and right before my open hand hits his mouth it closes tightly into a fist for maximum impact. My full strength slams against his mouth and reverberates through his jaw as if trying to jar his teeth loose from the vibration alone. I bet he can feel it running through his spine even. Instead of attacking again I watch as blood runs down from his lip onto his chin. I lean forward, and slowly lick the trail of his blood back to his lip. To me it isn't sexual at all. It's just a statement. His pain tastes good. Then I don't give him a chance to respond as he looks at me almost dumbfounded. I drop the smirk and let the life fade from my face so that he can see the true monster that stands before him. Eons of destruction and savagery are written within the skin of my face. The monstrousity of my features seems as ancient as violence itself. I am what everyone fears within themselves.)

You came here to defend the honor of the honorless. What you don't understand is I'm trying to help her. She needs it. The poor lost soul. So without focus or direction. Given everything so that she doesn't have to try to help herself. I'm just showing her what she already knows is inside her.

(I pause for a moment to make sure I have his full attention as I let my insanity flood my eyes till they seem to swirl with malevolence.)

Without my help, she is nothing....

(He looks slightly taken aback by my words but then seems to process them and almost accept them. I watch the chain reaction that moves this his pedestrian mind. The first response I get is probably the truest in his mind of the next several statements he'll make.)

The only thing you're showing her that she has on the inside, is her own blood and raw flesh.

(He continues to stare into my eyes as if attempting to emulate me. So childlike. It amuses me to no end. So new. So refreshing.)

You really want to help Alexis?

(I don't even think. I just respond.)

I just told you I did.

(I've already helped her so much. He smirks once more like he's making some big point. Oh how he prides himself on the tiniest of steps in our little mental showdown. If you can call it that. It's like teaching a child to walk. Each little step makes them so happy when they don't realize that by the second step they will fall on their retarded faces.)

Then kill yourself.....Or i'll do it for you!

(I watch his body and face run through a series of emotions as his rage begins to try to take over. His fists clench. His expression goes in a direction to express anger. I watch and feel nothing. He doesn't know rage. He doesn't know anger. He hasn't felt true fury. These are things I will eventually come to instruct him in if he continues this course of action. It takes everythign he has in every fiber of his being to hold back from attacking me. Somehow he manages to. I wouldn't have. He's missing out on so much fun by keeping it inside.

Does he think that's proved something to me? He should call me when the rage is so bad that it burns his veins. When it's so bad that it eats his insides and changes him into something he didn't want to be. When his primal screams still can't hold him back from being forced to watch as his body rips another pieces to shreds. I went through all that. Instead now I live with it. I embrace it. I love it. My emotions are laced with hatred and bitterness and spend all their time walking the thin line between rage and frenzy. It's very liberating. He should learn how to focus true anger. True rage. Then maybe he could free himself. Instead he sits down in a tiny gutter trying to protect the woman who is more worthless than half the planet combined. Hurting Alexis is one of the best feelings ever. He should go back to doing that like before. He pulls out a cigarette and screws it between his bloody lips before lighting it. He blows a thick cloud of smoke in my face that I barely notice.)

You don't mind if I smoke....Do you?

(Is that it? I slowly take the cigarette from his mouth and put it between my lips. I inhale deeply before exhaling and handing it back to him.)

Not at all.

(I step against him invading his space so bad he has to step out of my room. Much the same as he did to me to enter it. It's a dance, but he doesn't realize in this dance, I lead. I shut my door behind me. I thrust my head forward as if I might headbutt him, but I never make contact. My smirk never returns to show my true amusement. I'd rather he see my true face and have it etched into his memory. Haunting him for the next few weeks. I crack my neck and listen to it echo down the hallway.)

I'm sorry Jesse. I know it's rude of me, but I have a more pressing engagement. I'll have to play with you again some other time.

(The tone I delivered that to him in is dead flat. He'll get the idea. I turn my back on him as if he is nothing and quickly walk to the stairway exit and depart through the door. Angel still needs my help afterall. I'll deal with Jesse later.)